These are the Oil Secretaries. Back in the day, there were 400 of them. Then someone shot J.R. These days, they get about 20 at a meeting. They asked me to speak to their bimonthly gathering at Larkspur. Such nice ladies. So genteel. So easy to please.
Then there's this.As soon as I finished with the Oil Ladies, I headed to Chester's. Several months ago I'd been the Official Witness to a bet between Bonnie and Carrie. Bonnie bet that there would be fewer than 100 people at her roast. Carrie bet there would be way, way more. The loser was to buy a steak dinner for the winner.
Care to guess who won?
Jaime came to chapperone, but by the time I got there, the debauchery was in full swing.
Here, Bonnie and I economize by allowing the pond-side breeze on Chester's patio to blow our hair all model-y.
Final course before.
Ugh. Final course after.
4 comments:
Who did shoot J.R.? I've been wondering that for years.
I think I gained five pounds just looking at that dessert. At least, I think it was dessert. Can't wait to hear an account of everything everyone ate.
Do crab legs come free with the steak dinner at Chesters? I'm thinking not
Looks like trouble, if you ask me!
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